Ironman
by Sazuka57
Summary: In which Hanna's childhood is ruined.


**Ironman**

Hanna shuddered, hands tightly gripping the toilet seat. He had heaved all of the contents of his stomach and was now throwing up blood. _Not cool_.

He was in half a panic, but because the old man was just standing there in the bathroom's doorway drinking his beer and acting like it was all normal, it kind of calmed Hanna down enough to keep him from crying, which wouldn't have been cool _at all_.

Still, throwing up blood equaled to pretty freaky in Hanna's book.

When he was pretty sure he was done throwing up, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shakily stood up. He made his way to the sink and washed his hands and his face, all the while the old man watched him, drinking his booze and acting like nothing was wrong.

Hanna tiredly faced the old man after he dried his face, and the old man handed Hanna the beer bottle he was drinking from. Hanna gratefully took a sip before returning it to the man, and the two of them walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the couch.

There were a few moments of silence before the old man smoke, "That's what happens when you use a strong rune."

Hanna nodded solemnly and replied, "You could have told me…This isn't a lesson I wanted to learn the hard way."

"It wouldn't have sunk in any other way you moron," The old man snorted.

Hanna replied with a sigh before closing his eyes and letting his head roll back to rest on the couch. He felt thoroughly miserable and _tired_. Apparently, he also looked as bad as he felt, because the old man put the now-empty beer can down on the table with an overly loud _clunk_ before speaking, "Chin up, kiddo. Keep your chin up even when the worst is worst and everything's completely stark."

"It's looking pretty stark right now." Hanna mumbled.

"Well, at least it isn't your last name." The old man snorted in reply.

Hanna opened his eyes blearily and looked at the man, "…What do you mean?"

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say because the old man rolled his eyes and reached for another beer can, mumbling, "Kids these days with no knowledge of good past times or comics or action or anything of the like…"

The old man continued mumbling as Hanna racked his brain to try and get back in favor with the old man. The drunkard had mentioned comics and action, which meant action comics. The question became: which comic had a character named Stark in it? Or had it as their last name?

It took Hanna a few moments before it clicked, and sat up properly and interrupted the old man's ramblings with, "Do you mean Tony Stark? The Ironman?"

The old man stopped his ramblings and smiled crookedly, "Yeah, the Ironman."

"…I don't see how that has to do with any of this at all."

The undead man laughed a humorless laugh, "You really are a moron. Stark had to put a magnet over his heart to keep the shard of metal from piercing it. You? You're in good health and you want to destroy that with runes. It's not stark for you, and you don't have the last name to jinx yourself either."

"…I guess…" Hanna replied. He didn't get it, really, but he somewhat understood what the old drunken man was trying to tell him, "So what you're saying is that it could always be worse?"

"Yup," The old man replied, taking a chug from his drink, "Much, much worse. You have no idea."

"…I guess…" Hanna replied, shaking his head slightly, "The next thing you're going to tell me is that Batman is gay or something."

The old man took another chug out of the drink before silently handing the can to Hanna, who took it and proceeded to take a gulp. The old man waited until Hanna had some of the alcohol in his mouth before saying, "I can argue that Batman is not only gay, but a pedophile."

The effect was immediate—Hanna snorted and wound up choking on his gulp. His eyes watered as he coughed then began to laugh. When he was able to somewhat talk, the redhead blurted out, "What—that makes—you are ruining my childhood!"

The old man had by now saved his drink from Hanna and finished it. He put the can on the table with another _clunk_ before replying, "If you don't want to hear the rest of the argument, then get going. Besides, this was the last can, you your time is up for now."

Hanna nodded, smiling tiredly in the remains of his fit of laughter, he grabbed the empty cans to toss them into the trash can on his way out, and silently left the apartment. While he was closing the door, the old man yelled, "And remember, you aren't Ironman!"

"I will." Hanna replied, closing the door behind him. For the rest of the day, he did remember. The day after that too. And the day after that one as well.

And he made sure to never forget—it could always, _always_ be worse.

Hmmm...how about Hanna and the old guy who taught him about runes and magic as long as he bought him booze? Just, like, a random moment. Anything like that would be wicked awesome. Maybe like, Hanna's first time ever using a rune or something. –indigoblueshine


End file.
